


Sandpaper

by Allain_Kelyarus



Series: Grit [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Reader Needs a Hug, Reader-Insert, Self-Worth Issues, Suicidal Thoughts, insecure reader, poor communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-13
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-05-06 01:37:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14631363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Allain_Kelyarus/pseuds/Allain_Kelyarus
Summary: From a young age the reader has more or less become apart of the bat family however conflict has arisen (mostly between Bruce and the reader) in recent years that has led to them leaving the manor. With poor communication on everyone's part the reader struggles with their self-worth. Hopefully the family can come together and help the reader.





	Sandpaper

_Thunk!_ My head makes contact with the wall behind me and I register the sound it makes rather than the feeling. I feel my eyes glazing over as I stare at nothing and everything at the same time. Vaguely, I’m aware that I should be concerned about all the noise I just made but I can’t bring myself to care. Besides I live in Gotham. People here would rather not get involved than call the police. As my head lolls to the side I drag my eyes across the damage I’ve done to my apartment at least what I can see from my spot on the living room floor.

There are glass shards and other torn or broken bits scattered across the wooden floor. It looks like it’ll hurt to walk on whenever I do get up. That’s just a price I’ll have to pay I guess. I glance to my bare feet and it looks like I already have. Huh, I guess that’s why there’s also smears of blood on the floor. I probably should’ve been wearing shoes for this, but this is the first time I’ve left my bed this week. It should worry me that it doesn’t hurt right? I mean any normal person would be in pain right now but all I can feel is numb.

Anyway, I go back to assessing my apartment, old habits die hard, the sofa cushions are torn to pieces and scattered everywhere while the sofa itself looks like it was the victim in some gory slasher film. I can’t remember what I did with the knife after that and I don’t see it lying amongst the wreckage on the floor. Oh well, that’s not important right now I guess. The coffee table has seen better days. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the chunks of wood missing were from the knife as well but the splinters in my hands say different. The table is upended, and all the legs have been torn off. One of them is a few feet away from me split in two and out of the corner of my eye I can see one sticking out from one of the holes in the wall. A flash of memory tells me it’s one of the holes I punched into the wall. I’m definitely not getting my security deposit for this place back.

I wonder what Bruce would say if he was here? He’d probably be mad I wasted my skills on wrecking the place. _“Why do you insist on wasting your potential!?”_ His voice rings in my ears so sharply I reflexively flinch and bring my hands to cover my ears. It’s a pointless action considering the voice is inside my head, but I keep my hands there just the same. If I focus I can hear the blood flowing in my hands. Bringing my knees towards my chest I lean forward and rest my head against them.

My eyes fall shut on their own. I’m tired. So tired. But I wouldn’t dare go to sleep. The nightmares are worse than being awake. Beethoven’s Für Elise begins to drift softly into the room from the direction of my bedroom. Somewhere in the back of my mind I register that’s the twelfth call today. It’s probably Dick. The others gave up four days ago when I screamed at Tim for calling. My chest tightens as I remember. I need to apologize for that. He was just trying to help. They all are really but I don’t let myself think about that. It would just make the pain in my chest worse.

I don’t get why they bother wasting their time on me. Bruce doesn’t. Not anymore at least. We haven’t spoken since I left. The others have at least called if not dropped by. That reminds me there’s a Tupperware of Alfred’s pot roast and vegetables in the fridge. Dick brought it by a week and a half ago. He says I’ve been looking too thin lately. He’s probably right but I can’t remember the last time I looked in a mirror.

Seven months, two weeks, and five days since I left. Bruce hasn’t dropped by, called, or messaged. I don’t blame him. I’m not even his son. I’m not worth it. We might as well be strangers.

I was six when we first met. Mother had told me not to move from my seat at the table but what can you expect bringing a six-year-old to a party for the corporate world? I was bored out of my mind and it seemed like she wouldn’t even notice me slipping away. Not when she was busy laughing way too loud with her new boytoy of the week.

It was mid-November and even for the time of the year it was particularly cold outside so no one was out on the balcony which made it the perfect place for me to head. Once I was outside I took a deep breath. Even at the age of six those kinds of parties felt suffocating. I lightly dragged my fingers along the wall as I turned to head for the corner where the intricately carved stone railing met the wall. Sitting down and curling up into myself I lost track of how long I sat there for staring off into space... thinking. The sound of the balcony door opening and closing had my eyes shifting to the newcomer. Someone else who preferred the quiet cold to the too bright too fake sights and sounds inside.

Bruce Wayne. A voice in the back of my head supplied and I couldn’t help but think that mother would be proud all that time spent drilling the names and faces of “important” people in my head seemed to be paying off. I couldn’t remember much else besides billionaire and Wayne Enterprises.

I watched him dump the contents of his champagne glass over the balcony and then sigh deeply as he leaned on the railing. He hadn’t noticed me, and I couldn’t blame him. Besides my eyes and the slight rise and fall that occurs with breathing I hadn’t moved or made a sound. My position tucked away in a dark corner of the balcony probably didn’t help either. I’m not sure why but I decided to speak up.

“Are you—bored too?” I asked having to clear my throat to make myself louder.

He whirled around so fast I thought he’d trip. Genuine surprise graced his features as he finally saw me sitting there hidden away. Something flickered in his eyes as his entire demeanor shifted from tense surprise to something relaxed and casual and he took a few steps in my direction.

“I didn’t expect anyone else to be out here. Aren’t you cold kid?” he questioned tilting his head a bit.

I responded with a shrug he might not have seen and said, “It’s better out here than in there.”

Again, something passed in his eyes that I couldn’t identify and somehow without much movement on his part his demeanor changed again. He took a few more steps but was still far away enough that there was over two feet of space between us. He gave me an appraising look, so I uncurled from my position and gave him one right back.

“Your parents are probably worried looking for you. You should head back inside.” He voiced his opinion apparently concerned for the little boy sitting out in the cold.

If I had known then how things would play out I would’ve listened to him and gone back inside. I would have made sure I never spoke more than a polite greeting to Bruce Wayne after that, but I was just a kid. There was no way I could know the pain and heartbreak that would come to pass.

It wasn’t all bad. For a while I felt like part of the family. I felt like I meant something like I was important. God knows my real family never cared. Why would anyone think a doctor marrying an actress was a good idea? They were so different too different. Opposites do not always attract. Maybe they were just lonely? Two lonely people that didn’t want to leave nothing behind when they died so they had a kid, an heir. Honestly, I wish they’d never had me. Neither of them are suited to be parents and with the way I’ve turned out I shouldn’t have even been born.

Slowly, I begin to lie myself down on my side not paying any attention to the mess on the floor. It didn’t matter; nothing matters anymore. Maybe if I lay here long enough I’ll die and then finally stop feeling this way. Stop feeling so helpless and broken.

Would Bruce care if I died? Would he come to my funeral? I doubt it. I’m not worth it. He’s made that very clear. _“I don’t know why I even bother with you!”_ Why did you bother Bruce? What compelled you sit with me that night and make me feel like I was important? Because if you hadn’t I wouldn’t be here now. Curled up on the floor in my living room after I’d trashed the place in a blind rage. Is this how Jason felt after he came back from the dead? Did he also wish he never met Bruce? Wish that night he hadn’t stumbled upon the batmobile and thought to try and take its tires? If so, I can’t blame him for his outbursts. But unlike me he’s Bruce’s son. He’s important.

My phone is ringing again. There’s no telling how long I’ve been laying here. I should probably answer it. Getting up seems like too much effort though. Maybe Dick will take the hint and stop calling. Stop caring like everyone else. Plus, I’m tired so very tired. Maybe I will go to sleep… just for a little while. As I finish the thought my eyes close all on their own too heavy for me to lift up again.

___________________

 

Something that sounds like my name being yelled wakes me up. My body feels too heavy to move so I consider just going back to sleep. But then there’s my name again louder with a more desperate tone. I crack my eyes open a bit and see something rushing towards me. It’s all a blur really. A voice in my head says I should move. Get out of the way of whatever is coming towards me, but I can’t seem to find the strength to do so. Maybe the blur is something nice and won’t hurt me. My eyes drift shut again.

Before I can fall asleep again I’m being violently shaken and there’s that voice again desperate and pleading. I know that voice… I think. My eyes drag themselves open again. I’m right it’s Dick. He’s so close right in my face. He looks… terrified. His lips are moving, and he stops shaking me now. I think maybe he’s asked me something, but I can’t hear him. It’s like my ears have been stuffed full of cotton. Nothing he’s saying is clear enough to make out except my name. I see him turn slightly and yell something over his shoulder. Who else is here?

Someone’s footsteps are coming closer. When they stop I look up and it all makes sense. Bruce is here so this can’t be real. He’s never come here before and he never will. It’s just a dream. Knowing that I close my eyes just to rest a bit.

___________________

 

 _Beep… beep… beep._ Something is beeping. It’s sharp and high pitched with a clear steady rhythm. Slowly I open my eyes to a familiar ceiling. This must be a dream too. There’s no way I’d be back at the manor again and… yep glancing around I’m in my old room. The only sound I can hear is the constant beeping of the heart monitor next to my bed. The room is dark save for the light coming in from the window, so it must be night time.

I try to clear the brain fog in my head, so I can make sense of this situation. As my mind wakes up I figure out that this is real. I really am back in my old room in the manor. But why? Did… Dick and Bruce really come to my apartment? Bruce… came and got me. They also must have seen what I’d done to the place. I lift my right hand slowly so it’s in front of my face. It has been bandaged along with the rest of my arm. I’m probably littered with injuries of varying degrees. Sure enough as I struggle to sit up and lift the blanket covering me I notice I’m practically a mummy. Why am I like this? Why can’t I be normal? Everyone must be disappointed.

As I attempt to rest against the headboard the door to my room opens and in walks Alfred holding a few medical supplies. His eyes widen as we make eye contact and he stills for a moment in the doorway.

“You’re awake” he starts. “How are you feeling?” he continues stepping into the room and softly closing the door behind him. Ever the dutiful butler.

I try to respond but my throat is too dry, and I just end up coughing. Alfred quickly moves forward to comfort me and says “My apologies. You’ve been asleep for three days now your throat must be dry.” He moves to the side where only now I notice an IV stand that is hooked up to my left arm. “Along with all your injuries you were severely dehydrated and quite malnourished when you were brought home” he explains as he changes out the IV bag. He must see the question in my eyes and answers “Despite all that has occurred the manor is still your home. I believe I know what you are thinking, and I must say you are wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. I know these past few years have been… difficult to say the least but that certainly does not mean we have abandoned you. While master Bruce’s decisions in how to handle the situation have been rather dreadful you must know he still cares. We all do.”

Tears prick the corners of my eyes and Alfred moves forward and wraps me up in a gentle hug cradling the back of my head as I bury my face in his chest. “You will always have a place here” he whispers and soothingly rubs my back.

After I don’t know how long we break apart and he wipes away my tears with a soft smile on his face. The one that makes me feel that even if the world burns everything will still be ok in the end. “Now I will be back with something for you to drink and—” Alfred began only to be interrupted.

My stomach decides now is a good time to practice it’s imitation of a whale’s mating call and the sound slightly echoes. My face heats up and Alfred simply chuckles and says “ _and_ I will bring something for you to eat as well it seems. Use this remote should you require anything or assistance using the bathroom” as he hands me said device. He leaves after making sure I am resting comfortably against the headboard.

After he returns, and I finally quench my thirst I ask, “Where is everyone?”

“Quite the nasty case has popped up in Gotham over the last month and it seems everything has finally decided to come to a climax tonight. Even master Jason and master Dick have been assisting. Do not worry though. Once you have finished your meal you should continue to rest. While your hunger is a good sign your body will need much longer to heal properly. I will do my best to ensure none of them bother you during the night once they return” he replies.

I stare at my hands as he finishes speaking. They came for me even though they were busy with something more important. “Thank you, Alfred… for everything” I mumble wrapped up in my thoughts.

“You are quite welcome” he responds fondly and pulls up a chair next to my bed. “Now eat so you can continue resting. I will stay until you fall asleep” he instructs.

___________________

 

“…down! Or you’ll wake him up!”

“You’re the one who is yelling, Drake.”

“Guys how about we all just calm down?”

“Goldie’s right. If we wake him up Alfred’s going to skin us _all_ alive.”

“Tt. Says the loud mouth.”

“What did you just call me brat!?”

“Jay, come on he really will wake up and Dami stop egging him on.”

“Fine. But you better watch your back pipsqueak.”

“Wow, I’m terrified.”

“You little—"

I can’t hold it in anymore and let out a short laugh. The others immediately go quiet. I open my eyes and they’re all staring at me. Damian, Dick, Tim, and Jason. All four of them are here for me…

“Great. Now we’re _all_ in trouble.” Tim says with a roll of his eyes.

Damian huffs at that and states “Thanks a lot Todd.”

 “Right ‘cause you were a perfect little princess this entire fucking time.” Jason barks as he crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Damian.

Damian’s eyes narrow in turn and before he can give a retort Dick says “Can we not do this right now? If you both haven’t noticed our brother needs us.” They both turn away from each other at that and look back at me.

He still thinks…

“How are you feeling?” Tim asks voice quiet and eyes soft.

I sit up a bit to see them all better before I respond with “Well Alfred has definitely been giving me the good pain meds” trying for a joke. It falls flat though and leaves the room in a tense silence. No one really knows how to go about this it seems.

Well then, I guess I’ll start. I take a deep breath to steady my nerves for this conversation. I’m scared to hear what they all think but it’s inevitable considering in my condition I’m not going anywhere. “Guys… I’m sorry. You’ve all been trying to help, and I’ve been nothing but ungrateful in return. I understand if you all hate me” I acknowledge while fidgeting with my hands.

“Dude none of us hate you” Jason responds.

“As much as I hate to say it Todd is right” Damian agrees.

“That is as far away from the truth as you could get” Tim adds in.

“I think,” Dick begins “that if anything we all owe you an apology. We ignored the signs that you were in pain and that you needed us. Then when we all… found out we let Bruce handle everything and we all know how that worked out. I guess what I’m trying to say is that we all regret not being there for you from the beginning and we’re sorry. But I know sorry doesn’t fix any of this. If you’re willing to forgive us and ready we would all like to help you in any way we can” he finishes.

My eyes began to water the more I listened. I can’t believe… “Yes… I would like that” I tell them as tears begin to fall. The truth is I’ve missed them all so much.

Damian, the closest to the nightstand next to me, hands me a box of tissues which I gladly take and thank him for.

“I believe I said _not_ to wake him” Alfred’s voice drifts in from the doorway. All our attention turns to him. He takes one look around the room and sighs. “Although, I suppose it was foolish of me to believe you four could sit quietly in the same room together” he admits.

“Hey, give us some credit. We lasted almost an hour before he woke up” Jason claims.

“I don’t think that counts as an accomplishment” Tim informs him.

“Well it should” Jason argues.

“I’m just happy you’re all here” I admit, and everyone turns back to me at that.

“Well then I suppose some good has occurred. Now then I came to inform you all that breakfast shall be served soon.” Alfred announces and then turns to leave.

After a few more minutes of chatting and promises to return as soon as possible they all shuffle out. Alfred brings me my own tray of breakfast just as he had done last night. Everyone comes and goes talking or just sitting with me to help me stave off boredom as the day passes on. Well everyone except Bruce. By the time night falls he still has not made an appearance.

As Alfred is collecting my dinner tray I decide to speak up. “Alfred where is Bruce?” I ask avoiding eye contact.

He lets out a small sigh and answers “He will come visit you soon enough… and if he doesn’t I shall have a word with him. I think he just needs time to collect his thoughts. We’ve all seen the state of your apartment and I believe that among other things has made him… hesitant.”

“I see” I mumble. I shouldn’t get my hopes up. Just because Dick and the rest are willing to work things out doesn’t mean that Bruce is.

“Do not fret. While things won’t ever be the same I can tell you that they shall get better with time. I meant it when I said that we all care for you” he tells me and with a reassuring pat to the shoulder he exits.

___________________

 

Apparently five naps during the day is too many as I find myself lying awake late into the night. I wonder if patrol is over by now. I hope everyone is ok. I know they can all take care of themselves but it’s different not being out there with them. Maybe after I’ve healed they’ll let me join them again just like old times. I know I’m not as adept to crime fighting as they are, but I miss having their backs and knowing without a doubt that they all have mine. I miss the bickering and exasperated fondness from Bruce at our actions. I miss them…

I don’t realize I’ve started crying until a choked sob finds its way past my lips. Turning on my side I curl into myself. I hate this. I feel so useless. I know I should probably call someone. That feeling like this and not leaning on them for support is the main reason things are the way they are now. But I can’t bring myself to reach for the remote. I shouldn’t burden them anymore than I already have.

Suddenly I’m wrapped up in a warm embrace by strong arms. I just bury my face into their chest and cry harder. They have all already seen the worst of it. What’s one more breakdown? They hold me tighter and start rubbing circles into my back. I listen to their heartbeat as I try to calm myself down. By the time I run out of tears and am only letting out occasional dry sobs they’ve adjusted our position, so they are laying on my bed now and I’m curled up in their lap. I feel like a child who has just run crying to their parents because of a nightmare.

I’ve known since those arms first wrapped around me that it was Bruce, but due to the irrational fear that if I look at his face he’ll disappear I don’t dare to check. I don’t want to be alone right now.

“It pains me to think” Bruce starts “of how many nights you must have spent like this and none of us knew. We were right there and none of us could see how much you’ve been suffering. Some detective I must be…” he whispers the end barely audible probably more for himself than me.

“I don’t” he pauses to steady his breathing and tries again. “I don’t know where to start. How to fix this. I’ve been beyond selfish, and I know I need to use my words more, but you’re going to have to tell me where to start because I have no idea.” As he finishes I gather my courage to look at him. He’s crying. Strong immovable Bruce is crying because of me. They’re silent tears and I realize I’ve never seen him cry before.

I know it’s not what he wants to hear but “I’m not sure either…” I tell him. My voice comes out so broken and small it doesn’t even sound like me. Bruce’s grip on me tightens. “But sitting here feels nice” I continue.

“Then we’ll stay like this as long as you want” he promises.

“Thank you” I whisper and rest my head against his chest once again.

“Of course” he says.

“You know I thought I was dreaming before when I saw you and Dick at my apartment” I inform him after a moment of silence.

“Really? Why?” he questions.

“Because… you never came before then, so I thought the only way you would be there was if I was dreaming.”

“I’m sorry” he apologizes.

“It’s okay” I say with a shrug.

“No, it really isn’t. I should have gone after you when Alfred first told me you left.” He shifts against the headboard sliding down the mattress more. “There are lots of things I should have done instead of what I did. Like called or gone to see you sooner. I hate to admit it, but Dick and the others had to wear me down to get me to go visit you when I did.” His grip on me tightens around me once again. “And when we got there… There was a bloody knife in the doorway and I just froze. I couldn’t stop staring at it. I thought it was too late. That you had… Thank _God_ Dick was there” he confesses.

So that’s what I did with that knife… I don’t remember if I intentionally hurt myself or not. But then again, I don’t remember much after leaving my room. Eventually I speak up. “You were worried?” I ask.

“Of course, I was. Despite everything that has happened you’re still my son” he explains.

“…your son” I repeat.

“Yes. My son.” He confirms.

“Someone should tell my parents then” I say without much thought.

“We can if you want” Bruce says as if it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“What?” is my intelligent response.

We both move to make eye contact with each other. “If you want to we can make it legal” he informs me.

“But… I’m an adult” I point out.

“It doesn’t matter. Yes, there are more things involved than if you were a foster child but it’s still possible” he clarifies.

He’s serious about this. “Can… I think about it?” I ask. Hopefully it’s not a one time offer.

“Take as much time as you need. The option will still be there if you so choose.”

“Thank you” I tell him as I wrap my arms around him for a hug.

“You’re welcome” he replies as he returns the hug.

There’s still so much we both need to talk about and work through. All of us really but I can’t help but think in this moment that we’ll be okay. Not perfect and not even how we used to be but just okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope Bruce wasn't too OOC. I know he's supposed be the strong silent type but that doesn't help in this kind of situation. Communication is the only way the family can move on together from something like this.
> 
> This took a lot longer to finish than I originally intended and new things that I wanted to add kept popping up. Besides the reader's gender I tried to leave them as vague as possible in the hopes that people would be able to insert themselves into the story better. To visualize themselves as they see fit. I didn't realize until I finished the part after the first line break that I hadn't used "Y/N". Then I tried to see if I could go the whole story without doing so.
> 
> Anyway please leave a comment. I would really like to hear what others think of this story.


End file.
